Sent
by PrincessVenture
Summary: It isn't easy living in the shadow of everybody else, but that's about to change when the Princes of the Southern Isles send Hans to Arendelle on a mission. The story of Frozen told from Hans's point of view...with a twist.
1. Chapter 1

Arendelle was beautiful.

Hans had only been to the tiny island kingdom—a powerful trading center, despite its geographical size—once before in his life, when he was just a young boy.

He remembered his parents, the king and queen of the Southern Isles, bringing him to the christening of one of the princesses of Arendelle—Anne, was it? Something like that. He'd been forced to wear a particularly uncomfortable ruff neck collar, since they had been all the rage when he was five, and it was summer and unbearably hot in the chapel, and the baby princess was wailing, and Hans was fidgeting in his seat until one of his brothers—Adrian, the eldest—smacked him upside the head and ordered him to sit still. (One of his other brothers then slipped a slimy salamander down Hans's shirt, causing Adrian to smack him again for squirming throughout the rest of the ceremony.)

He hasn't been back to Arendelle in eighteen years. The kingdom was really just a large but modest-looking palace overlooking a small village and marketplace and the fjord. Not much else was known about the little island nation, as diplomatic visits between Arendelle and the Southern Isles always took place in the palace where Hans grew up. It was almost as if the leaders of Arendelle were hiding something back home. Once, when he was ten, Hans had overheard some foreign merchants muttering about the palace gates always being closed in Arendelle, keeping in some secret known only to the royal family.

But there was nothing secretive in appearance about Arendelle today, as the kingdom was bustling with visiting dignitaries and townspeople, all eager to catch a glimpse of the two princesses, whom, according to some, no one had seen in nearly thirteen years. (The one princess and the one queen, Hans supposed, since the elder princess, Elsa, had technically become queen when King Maurice and Queen Gertrude were lost. Of course. That was why Hans was in Arendelle in the first place—for the new queen's coronation.)

From his vantage point on the deck of the _Henriette_, Hans could see that the marketplace had been decked out in lush green garlands and colorful streamers, and the bridge leading from the docks to the village was adorned with purple and gold banners. A seemingly endless stream of guests and dignitaries was making its way across the bridge, toward the village square. Beyond that, the palace gates—was that…? Were they…? Yes! They were opening!

"Prince Hans?"

It was the French dignitary, a small, thin man with slicked-back dark hair and a goatee that resembled a sad attempt to emulate that of the Prince Consort Eugene of Corona. Hans could not remember the man's name to save his life (Pierre? Pyoter? Whatever, it was probably something generic, like Jacques), but he nevertheless felt a twinge of annoyance that he was not properly addressed as "Your Majesty."

_I may not be an heir or a spare or the spare of a spare, but I'm still a prince, dammit!_

No one aboard this ship respected him. He was a guest. The Southern Isles were just off the coast of France, and Hans's parents were away, negotiating trade terms with the Dutch, and the other princes were not attending Arendelle's coronation…because of reasons that Hans preferred to shove into the back of his mind. That left Hans, the youngest, to attend and save face for the Southern Isles. And since he was the only representative of his country, it made a lot more sense for him to sail with their French neighbors than to send a ship specifically for the black sheep of the family. Hans had protested that the French were too lofty and snobbish, but his brothers were having none of that. Someone, they argued, had to represent them.

Imagine the international brouhaha that would result if the Southern Isles sent no representatives to witness the coronation of a new monarch! The Northwest League of Europe would no doubt suspect that the nation guilty of such a _faux pas_ was plagued by internal struggle and prey upon the weakened state. Or worse, they would suspect that the Southern Isles had ambitions to claim Arendelle for itself while the new monarch's power was yet to be consolidated, and relations with the rest of the League would crumble as the other nations banded together to defend Arendelle, a trade giant whom they were sworn to protect due to their precious investments.

Which meant Hans had to grit his teeth and bear the ridicule from the French servants aboard the _Henriette_, or they would rat him out to their masters, and then he would have no ride home. And then his brothers would hear of it, and all hell would break loose.

He'd learned to mask his frustrations, though, from twenty-three years of living in everybody's shadow. So he forced a smile and turned to the French dignitary.

"Yes, Jacques?"

The smaller man sniffed. "My name is not Jacques, Prince Hans. My name is P—"

"Ah, I see we've docked," Hans interrupted. "Excuse me, I've got to go get Sitron off this boat. He gets terribly seasick."

The deckhands were already leading his horse off the ship, so Hans left Not-Jacques, or Pierre, or whatever his name was, alone on the deck and disembarked.

Nearby, another crowd was disembarking from another ship. Hans recognized the golden sun emblem emblazoned upon a rich purple background as the crest of Corona. Another small island nation with a mysterious past, as their king and queen had locked the kingdom away into semi-isolation following the disappearance of their daughter. Much to the world's surprise, diplomatic relations had resumed between Corona and the rest of the League in recent years due to the return of the Lost Princess Rapunzel, who now served as liaison between Corona and much of the rest of the League. Speaking of whom…

Princess Rapunzel and Prince Consort Eugene were currently making their way through the docks, toward the bridge, flanked by a band of their purple-clad Coronan dignitaries. Giving his horse an apologetic pat, Hans hurried over to catch up with them.

"Hi, Rapunzel, Eugene! Fancy meeting you here in Arendelle. I thought I wouldn't see you two again until Christmastime!"

The petite young woman smiled and curtsied in greeting. "Hans! It's good to see a familiar face. Are your brothers here as well?"

"Nope, I'm here as the sole representative of the Southern Isles."

Rapunzel visibly relaxed. "Oh, good it's just you!"

"Just me? Thanks, Rapunzel." Hans feigned hurt. "That's just what I needed, another person to remind me that I'm a nobody."

He and the formerly lost princess had become good friends in the past five years, as they were about the same age and shared a love for exploring and a fascination with the world beyond their own kingdoms. As no one paid him any attention as a child, Hans would often slip away from the castle and eavesdrop on the merchants' and fishermen's tales of their travels. And having grown up for eighteen years in an isolated tower, Rapunzel now yearned to explore the world, the knowledge of whose existence she had been deprived for so long. Additionally, they shared a dislike of Hans's brother Franz, who would relentlessly pursue Rapunzel despite the fact that she had been married to Eugene for over three years now. Hans had still not forgiven Franz for ignoring him for two entire years when they were younger.

Eugene rolled his eyes affectionately at his wife. "Sorry about that, Hans. She's just relieved that she won't have to fight off Franz with a stick all night. She was biting her nails the entire time we were at sea."

Rapunzel shoved him playfully. "Hey, you don't know! Maybe Franz finds short, jagged fingernails and bloody cuticles a huge turn-off!"

Just then, a distant clock tower chimed half past ten.

"Sorry!" Rapunzel called over her shoulder as the royal couple of Corona hastened toward the bridge. "We have to go ahead now. I have to speak to Elsa before the ceremony, since, you know, it's a family thing…"

Oh, right. Hans remembered that Rapunzel and the princesses of Arendelle were first cousins, since the late Queen Gertrude of Arendelle and Rapunzel's mother had been sisters.

_If the Plot goes well, Rapunzel and I could be first cousins-in-law…_

The Plot. How could he forget the sole reason he was here in Arendelle today?

For as long as he could remember, Hans had disliked his brothers. Growing up, they would constantly band together to pick on him when their parents were away on diplomatic visits. He had assumed that the pranks and even the beatings were the result of childhood immaturity or adolescent aggression, even deluding himself into thinking that his brothers loved him despite their actions. But when he reached adolescence, he found that he was nothing like his brothers. They were bullies, plain and simple.

Things took a turn for the worse when Hans's parents insisted that he learn sword fighting. Hans had protested that it was unnecessary, as no one would bother attempting to assassinate someone who would never hope to ascend the throne, but, with fear in their eyes, Mother and Father had muttered that it was not for fear of assassination at the hands of a commoner. Hans's heart had leaped into his throat. Did they know what his brothers had been doing to him? He had been so careful to hide the cuts and bruises, as his tormentors had threatened on multiple occasions to make his life hell should their parents find out. So once they found out that Hans had been learning to defend himself, they confiscated his sword and dagger, only allowing him to possess the sword while in the public eye. Claiming that self-defense was excessive, they appointed him two bodyguards, but Hans knew they were his brothers' spies. He effectively became a prisoner in his own home.

The king and queen were aging, and Adrian would no doubt soon succeed them. But he was a fool. An inflexible stickler for the rules, rules that were quickly becoming arcane in this new century. The second-eldest, Hector, would no doubt steal the throne for himself after quietly murdering Adrian and his five-year-old son. That had sent of a wave of paranoia through the rest of the princes, and each of Hans's older brothers had built up his own personal army by courting the favor of the nobles and lesser vassals throughout the Southern Isles. And Hans, being the youngest by eight years, had no army of his own. The Southern Isles were on the brink of civil war, he'd overheard the commoners whispering in the marketplace, and the king's death would be the precipitant. _Which prince will you fight for?_

Hans himself wanted nothing to do with this divided, sorry excuse for a country. What was the use, if the throne was out of reach, so he couldn't make things right, and nobody knew who he was anyway? If he'd had his way, he would have jumped aboard the first ship headed for the New World, or even the Far East, and never looked back.

Then one day, the other princes had summoned him to a meeting while the king and queen were in the Dutch Republic. That was when Hans had found out he would be representing the Southern Isles in Arendelle. Queen Elsa, they had informed him, had become of age. Arendelle was about to open up a new chapter, as she would most likely undo the isolationist policies set up by her parents and maintained by the regent after their deaths. And despite the geographical distance, the princes wanted Arendelle for themselves, to build up their personal armies and line their own purses. Hans's job, they declared, would be to woo the new queen or her sister and win the favor of the commoners and somehow make his way to the throne.

"We'll even let you keep it," Hector had smirked. "Provided that you serve as the new figurehead, and we run the show from behind, of course." Of course. Hector was the mastermind of manipulation and cunning. He _would_ be the one to cook up this disgusting plot.

Hans had swallowed, painfully aware that he was the only one unarmed in the room. His "bodyguards" were waiting outside the double doors to the conference room, but he knew they would finish him off if his brothers didn't. "And if I fail?"

"Don't bother coming back."

"But why can't one of you do it?"

"Are you scared?"

It would be futile to protest that the treaty that consolidated the League forbade the impounding of other kingdoms. Promises meant nothing to these men.

"All I'm saying is, no one in Arendelle would respect a prince who's a nobody in his home kingdom."

"That's up to you to figure out. Get the throne, get rid of the princesses, and don't come back until you do. And if you try to double cross us…" Hector then gestured at three small pieces of carved mahogany sitting on the table before him.

Chess pieces. A King, a Queen, and a pawn. _Father, Mother, and me_, Hans had realized.

Hector drew his sword and neatly sliced all three pieces in half.

Hans shuddered at the memory.

A bump from behind jerked him out of his dark thoughts, and he remembered that he was currently standing on the docks while the other guests were making their way toward the palace.

"Out of my way!"

Ah, that would be the Duke of Weselton. Highly unpleasant fellow. Hans made a mental note to stay away from him. He was on good terms with Hector and was probably there to keep an eye on Hans and make sure he did his job.

As the old man practically skipped toward the palace in glee, Hans sighed and turned back to get Sitron. He needed the comfort of a friend if he was going to complete his mission.

Around him, the docks were becoming less crowded, as the influx of guests was nearing a close. If anyone found it odd that someone had brought a horse to a coronation for an island kingdom (the "mainland" of Arendelle was just a larger, uninhabited mountain island that provided a waterfall backdrop for the kingdom), no one mentioned it to Hans. He had specifically asked to bring his horse to the coronation because it was the least he could do to get his friend as far away from his enemies as he could.

"Come on, buddy. Let's get you to the stables—"

"_Oh!"_

Hans jerked on the reins, bringing Sitron to a halt at once. He saw a flash of green, and then he realized that there was a girl sprawled in a little rowboat. The boat was tipping, but Sitron had caught it with his hoof, pinning the end to the dock.

He quickly dismounted and rushed to the girl's aid. "I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?"

The girl fished a piece of seaweed out of her strawberry blonde hair and scrambled into a sitting position. "I—Yea—No. No, I'm okay!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just wasn't looking where I was going. But I'm okay."

There was something oddly endearing about the girl as she floundered about the little boat, slipping on her green gown and collapsing back on the floor. He quickly surveyed her attire: light green ball gown, dark bodice, hair swept into a bun and tied with a green ribbon. This must be a noblewoman or courtier either native to Arendelle or visiting from another kingdom.

So, minding his manners, he held out a hand to help her up and gave a little bow. "Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles," he introduced.

"Oh! Um, Princess Anna of Arendelle," she returned, curtseying awkwardly.

"Princess?" Of course! This was the younger sister of the queen, whose christening he had attended when he was five. Then he realized that this girl was his host and quickly bowed again. "My lady!"

Suddenly, the boat tipped forward, and Hans found himself flinging out his arms to break his fall before he landed on top of the princess of Arendelle. Coughing in embarrassment, he started to stand up, but then the boat tipped the other way, and they were thrown backward.

_Damn you, Sitron!_

"This is awkward," Anna mumbled apologetically, climbing off of him. She quickly corrected, "No—not _you're_ awkward—but just because we're—I mean, _I'm_…awkward." She flailed her arms around helplessly as she searched for the right words before grabbing his hand to help him up. "You're gorgeous," she blurted. "Wait, what?"

Gorgeous? Hans? No one had ever noticed him before. For once, Hans found himself speechless. Should he thank her? Compliment her as well? Why didn't his etiquette instructor ever prepare him for situations like this?

Finally, he just stammered an apology for accidentally landing on her.

"What? No, no, no. It's fine. I'm not _that _princess of Arendelle. I mean, if you had hit my sister Elsa, that would be…_yeesh!_" She laughed nervously. "Luckily, it's—it's just me."

"Just you?" Hans repeated, not quite paying attention. What had Anna meant by "_yeesh_"? Was Elsa less approachable than her younger sister? That would certainly bring his brothers' Plot to a screeching halt, if Elsa was unwilling to take a suitor. Then he could take Sitron and get as far away from the Southern Isles as possible.

Just then, the clock tower chimed quarter till eleven. The coronation was starting in fifteen minutes!

Anna jumped in surprise. "Oh, no! The bells! The coronation! I-I better go. I have to go! Uh…I better go…" She glanced toward the castle then back at Hans and Sitron frantically.

"So I'll see you later?" he offered.

"Oh, uh, yes! Later!" She sighed dreamily, before shaking her head to clear it. "Well, uh…bye!" She gave a tiny wave before gathering her skirts and scurrying off.

Hans noticed that Sitron was smirking at him. That is, if horses could smirk. "What?" he snapped.

So Princess Anna may have taken a liking to him. That wasn't part of the plan…was it? But what if Elsa was a dead end? If Hector were here, he would probably just marry Anna and then stage a little "accident" for the queen. But Hans was not Hector, and he was _very_ reluctant to hurt anyone, least of all innocent little Anna.

Well, Anna seemed to like him. That was a foot in the door, at least. Maybe he could explain his situation to Elsa and warn her about Hector.

But then he remembered the chess pieces, and his blood ran cold again. Mother and Father were in danger, too. He could not, would not, betray them.

Either his parents died, or the sisters of Arendelle died.

But Elsa and Anna were innocents, too. What was he going to do?

* * *

**A/N:** I do not take credit for the idea for this story. That goes to Slobberyblobber, who came up with an interesting theory for why Hans is the way he is. I'm not a fan of Hans, but I thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if Hans weren't evil.

Sorry if the dialogue isn't 100% accurate. I've only seen _Frozen_ twice, so I have next to none of the dialogue memorized.

Reviews are kind of sort of cool.


	2. Chapter 2

The last notes of the choir were still ringing throughout the chapel when the Bishop placed the crown on the queen's head.

Hans grimaced as something hit his left shoulder with a soft squishing noise. It was one of the dignitaries, probably the German one. The rotund old man had been yawning throughout the ceremony earlier and had been nodding off when the choir started.

After Hans had bid farewell to Princess Anna, Sitron had delayed his master's arrival to the coronation ceremony by releasing the little rowboat, probably on purpose. That horse had always been one for mischief. Hans had been forced to strip on the docks so that he could wring the seawater out of his clothes, praying that no one was around to see. He'd made it to the ceremony with five minutes to spare, raising the eyebrows of quite a few palace staff members with his disheveled appearance. (Or maybe they just found it odd that only one prince from the Southern Isles was in attendance.) Now, seated in the chapel, Hans noticed that, while his suit was still damp, some of the water had dried, leaving traces of sea salt. Thank goodness he was wearing white!

At the altar, standing next to her sister, Anna looked on solemnly as Elsa was crowned. Catching his eye, Anna turned around, the corners of her lips immediately curving into a genuine smile.

Hans quirked his eyebrows apologetically at the dignitary currently using his shoulder as a human pillow and gave her a small wave, hoping the traces of sea salt where the water had dried from his clothes were not too obvious. She waved back before turning again to face her sister, who had straightened and was preparing to take the scepter and _globus cruciger_ from the bishop.

He felt a small stab of jealousy. The scepter and the orb would never make their way to his hands, as he was thirteenth in line in the Southern Isles. Plus, Adrian already had a son, and so long as Adrian only had one son, Hector would be next. The crafty wolf would most likely stage an "accident" for his older brother and dispose of his nephew to become king. Then he would outlaw personal armies and appoint "bodyguards" for the rest of their brothers until, one by one, they all mysteriously disappeared, and no blood-related successors remained. Having grown up in everyone's shadow, Hans had always craved the attention and loyalty that would accompany the throne, but he knew usurpation was never the answer.

He turned his attention back to the scene before him.

Elsa seemed to hesitate as she tugged off her gloves and reached for the scepter and orb. Hans was close enough to see that her hands were trembling as she turned to face her subjects and guests. He hurriedly stood up, along with the rest of the guests, dislodging the German dignitary. The bishop began to chant the ceremonial incantation.

So this was the girl he was supposed to woo. If Hans had randomly run into her on the docks like he had with Anna, he would never have believed this was Anna's older sister. Like Anna, Elsa was slender with large blue eyes, but that was about where the similarities ended. She wore a gold-accented black and teal dress that looked much more restricting than the gowns worn by ladies in the Southern Isles, which often showed far too much _décolletage_ for Hans's liking. Elsa's neck and shoulders were hidden under a rich violet cape, probably imported from Corona, and her platinum blonde hair was twisted back into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. She was no doubt very beautiful, but the overall effect gave off a stifling impression, as if this girl were uncomfortable in her own skin but was much too polite or disciplined to offend her hairdressers and maids by requesting a less suffocating appearance.

Or maybe she was just nervous about the enormous amount of responsibility she would assume as monarch. Her lips were pressed into a thin line; she seemed to be holding her breath, and her eyes darted down to her trembling hands with an almost panicked expression. Was a coronation really that nerve-wracking?

Anna, too, seemed to notice her sister's distress. Hans was taken aback by how unhealthily pale Elsa appeared in contrast to Anna as the younger sister hesitantly took a step forward, probably preparing to catch Elsa in case she fainted.

The moment the words "Queen Elsa of Arendelle" left the bishop's lips, Elsa hurriedly returned the scepter and orb and shoved her gloves back on, clasping her hands together and exhaling, the tension slipping from her shoulders.

As he applauded politely with the rest of the dignitaries, Hans couldn't help but wonder at the queen's odd behavior. The girl seemed so uneasy, as if crowds made her nervous, and aloof, scarcely glancing in her sister's direction even as Anna beamed proudly, bursting with excitement at her side. The people of the Southern Isles generally thought Arendelle odd—a trade giant who always conducted diplomatic meetings as guests and never as hosts? But could it be less a matter of odd Arendellean customs and more the possibility that something was not quite right in the monarchy? The tension in the queen's shoulders and the way her eyes had darted about earlier suggested something secretive about her, and Hans felt an uneasy chill run down his spine at the thought to having to be married to her.

* * *

"…So then, I said, 'It's in that pot, isn't it?' and she immediately knocked me out with that blasted frying pan again!"

Hans laughed politely as Princess Rapunzel and Prince Consort Eugene recounted the tale of their first meeting. He had heard the story countless times before, as Eugene loved to wax poetic about his heroics and remind all the bachelors at every state dinner party he attended that Rapunzel was taken. (Eugene had always had a flair for the dramatic, insisting on starting his story with, "This…is the story of how I died.") Hans would have offered a feeble excuse to slip away into the party, but Rapunzel and Eugene were the only people he knew in the place, and none of the ladies ever took notice of Prince Nobody, so he was stuck third-wheeling with them.

A little ways off, Queen Elsa stood alone, observing the party, seemingly much more relaxed than she had been during the ceremony. Hans noticed her cringing and occasionally smiling apologetically at someone on the dance floor, probably Anna. Earlier, the Duke of Weselton had asked for a dance, but Elsa had declined, offering Anna as a dance partner instead.

No one else had attempted to ask for a dance with Elsa.

Hans had attended plenty of dance parties at which Weselton had been present, and the old man's strange dance moves were quite an eyesore. He craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of green silk and strawberry blonde hair.

Ah, there they were. Anna was currently standing on the dance floor in confusion as the Duke marched in a circle around her with his hands on his hips, looking very much like a pigeon waddling about in high heels. He seemed to be shouting, "Like a chicken…with the face of a monkey…" Anna winced as he trod on her foot.

Hans contemplated stepping in to rescue Anna, but then Weselton shot him a Look, and he realized the old weasel was probably distracting her to give Hans a chance to make a move on Elsa. Hector had probably promised to split all of Arendelle's tradable goods with him.

Time was of the essence. The French were going home the next day, so he kind of only had a few hours left to complete his mission before his ride left without him. And if he returned to the Southern Isles having failed to secure an engagement to the queen, he would have hell to pay. Hector would probably find a way to spin a tale of Hans, Mother, and Father as traitors and enemies of the Southern Isles and publicly execute them.

"So..." Rapunzel nudged Hans slyly. "Anyone here catch your eye yet?"

Hans realized he'd been zoning out. He opened his mouth to blurt, "Nope, nobody," but Rapunzel's green gaze was already following his into the crowd. He felt his face heat up as his friend caught sight of the Arendellean sisters (Anna had escaped from Weselton and was now giggling over something with Elsa) and raised her eyebrows.

"You should ask her to dance." Rapunzel grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. "And don't forget to invite me to the wedding!"

Hans winced. That hit a little too close to home.

"I'm, uh, going to go now. I'll see you later, Rapunzel!" Using the age-old trick that had allowed him to outrun his brothers before they dunked him headfirst into the punch bowl during so many dinner parties, Hans shoved his champagne glass into a baffled Rapunzel's hands and ducked into the crowd, knowing that she would not dare chase after him whilst balancing a full glass unless she took the time to find a flat surface for it.

He slipped past some waltzing couples and chatting socialites and was about to make his way to the refreshments when someone clamped a fist around his wrist. "Where do you think you're going, boy?"

_Weselton_.

Hans sighed.

"The princesses are that way."

"Actually, one of them is a queen," Hans corrected dryly.

The older man waved his hand dismissively as if to say, _Not for long_. "She turn you down, too?"

"Er…yeah. I was about to down a glass of champagne before asking Anna to dance instead." Better to lie and throw the old weasel off his scent than to be ratted out to his brothers.

Weselton leaned in closer to whisper, "There's something not quite right about those two. Did you notice how the queen was during the ceremony? Completely panicked! And she wouldn't even dance with me! I know they're hiding something—I just _know_ it! And the other one! _Terrible_ dancer! Couldn't keep up with me at all, and I'm near—"

"Nearly sixty-five years old. I know. Now could you let me go? People are going to get suspicious if they see us whispering here. I'm going to go find Anna. You…go get drunk off the chocolate fondue or something."

* * *

Hans had no intention of getting closer to Anna. After all, it was either her and her sister's death, or his parents' death at the hands of their own sons.

But as they danced the night away and stole a moment for themselves in the palace gardens, Hans felt himself inexplicably drawn to this endearingly quirky girl, who somehow managed to poke him in the eye but make the pain go away with just one sheepish giggle.

Strolling under a canopy of fruit trees, they were talking about everything and nothing when Hans noticed a streak of her hair glowing in the moonlight, a stark white in contrast to the strawberry blonde. Subconsciously, he reached out a hand to touch it. "What's this?"

"Oh, I was born with it." Self-consciously, Anna tucked a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear, probably a nervous habit. "Although, I dreamt I was kissed by a troll." She looked up at him timidly, as if the little streak were something she was ashamed of. Had people given her a hard time about it when she was younger, the way Hans's brothers had picked on him for being the only one with red hair?

"I like it," Hans assured her, eager to bring that carefree smile back to her face.

It was the second time he'd seen her mood dampen tonight, the first being when he had noticed Elsa abruptly turning away from her, as if the sisters had disagreed harshly over something. He didn't like it. Anna was like spring, so full of life and hope and joy. No one should be allowed to take that away from her.

_Not even Hector? At the cost of Mother's and Father's lives?_

The thought startled him. How was it that he'd forgotten about the Plot yet again? It had been the only thing on his mind ever since the coronation ceremony, reminding him that time was of the essence. And here was this girl who, with even the slightest smile, was able to lift the weight from his mind.

An angry gurgle from his stomach brought Hans back to the present. Anna giggled, taking his hand and leading him back inside. Hans did his best to ignore Weselton and his henchmen by the door, one of whom whistled cheekily as the pair walked past.

Anna pulled him over to the refreshments. "What's your favorite food?"

Hans blushed. "Promise you won't judge me?"

"Of course!"

"…Sandwiches."

* * *

"Yeah, the whole thing! You got it!"

Anna cheered as Hans finished his krumkake in one bite. It was a game his brothers had played when they were younger, as the more quickly one ate his dinner, the more desserts one could have. Back in the days of innocence, when the only worries they had were over having to memorize French vocabulary. Before succession ambitions and inflated egos had driven the royal family apart.

"Okay, wait, wait!" Anna paused as Hans swallowed the last of his cookie. "So you had _how_ many brothers?"

Prior to his little krumkake stunt, the topic of conversation had turned to their families. Although, Hans may have subconsciously brought it up by asking Anna about hers because he wanted to know more about his future in-laws—

Wait, _what?_

Yeah...anyway…

"Twelve," he responded. "Twelve older brothers. Three of them pretended I was invisible—literally—for two years."

He had meant it for a lighthearted chuckle—like, _Hey, don't worry about it. It was all fun and games, and we're all good now_—but something in his voice must have betrayed his emotions, for Anna gasped, "That's horrible!"

Oh, no. He could not let this conversation go any further. Anna seemed to have a talent for lowering his inhibitions and knocking down his defenses. For the past few hours he had spent with her, Hans found himself telling her anything she wanted to know. He did not have the heart to lie to her, and it would only be a matter of time before she would ask if any of his brothers were in Arendelle, and then the whole Plot would come tumbling from his lips. He could not, would not, frighten her like that. Anna may never trust him again.

And that thought terrified Hans.

So he just said with a dismissive shrug and a forced chuckle, "It's what brothers do." _Lies._

"And sisters," Anna returned with an equally forced laugh. Her shoulders slumped. "Elsa and I were really close when we were little. And then one day, she just…shut me out. And I never knew why…"

Hans had never been particularly close to any of his brothers. Back before personal ambitions had driven his family apart, even the brothers he had been closest to had been more like strangers who happened to share blood and therefore had to get along with him, rather than actual siblings. But maybe Anna had it worse, having lost her sister and best friend.

Earlier, from the way Anna had spoken wistfully of her childhood and the times when, in the winter, the sisters would spend all day outside building snowmen and sledding and skating, Hans could tell that Anna still cared deeply for Elsa. What could make Elsa suddenly turn against her little sister, especially someone as sweet as Anna? Hans knew that if he could, he would do anything—absolutely anything—to keep Anna happy.

Hans realized with horror what was happening. He was getting attached. Anna, too, no doubt. He was playing right into Hector's game, whether he liked it or not. Even if it was for her own safety, he could not, _would not_, shut her out the way Elsa had. Because he loved her, and her pain was his pain.

_I'll protect her_, he promised himself. _Hector won't harm a hair on her head._

So leaning over, he gently took her hand. "I would never shut you out," he promised softly and earnestly.

Anna brightened again. "Okay, can I just say something…_crazy?"_

* * *

Sometime around midnight, the two were standing on a little outcrop overlooking the kingdom, with the waterfall in the backdrop, when Hans gave into temptation and asked Anna to marry him.

She accepted immediately.

Hans was sick of jumping through his brothers' hoops. He and Anna may have gotten engaged, but he had no intention of carrying through with the Plot. No, he was going to marry her because she was his true love. He would tell Elsa everything and warn her away from Weselton, and then he could find the Dutch dignitaries and sail with them back to the Dutch Republic and caution his parents to stay away from the Southern Isles.

Now they were making their way through the ballroom, trying to find Elsa. That was, Anna was pushing through the crowd, Hans in tow. She'd wanted her sister to be the first to share their good news, assuring him that she was certain Elsa would be happy for them.

Hans definitely hoped so. If Elsa did not approve of him, then how would he convince her that he was not a willing participant in Hector's schemes? Would she suspect Hans himself of trying ally with her to overthrow the other princes of the Southern Isles so that he could have the throne for himself? Plus, Anna would be crushed if Elsa did not give them her blessing. Hans would marry her anyway, but they would have to elope, and then they could neither stay in Arendelle nor go to the Isles. His brothers would be furious that his marriage to the princess would turn out useless for the Plot, for Elsa would still be on the throne, and her estranged sister Anna would no longer be eligible to succeed her if she were to run away with Hans. Both Arendelle and the Isles would disintegrate into political chaos.

"Oh, there she is. _Elsa!"_ Anna hauled Hans up beside her, before a bewildered-looking Elsa.

"Anna?"

Anna curtsied quickly. "I mean, Queen…Me again. Um…may I present Prince Hans of the Southern Isles?"

Hoping to make a good impression, Hans bowed. "Your Majesty."

Elsa frowned, noticing their joined hands. _Not a good sign._ She curtseyed in return nonetheless.

Anna giggled with excitement, oblivious to her sister's expression. "We would like—"

"Your blessing," Hans cut in quickly. Elsa was eyeing him suspiciously, as if she thought him unsuitable for her sister.

Anna was still talking. "Of—"

"Our marriage!" They finished in unison. Anna beamed up at him, her arm twined with his, and he was almost certain he wore an utterly pathetic lovesick expression, but he didn't care. They were getting married!

The queen's eyebrows shot up. "…Marriage…?"

"Yes!" Anna squealed.

"I'm sorry, I'm confused—"

She barely got out a few words before Anna started talking a mile a minute. "Well, we haven't worked out all the details ourselves. Of course, we'll need a few days to plan the ceremony, and we'll have soup, and ice cream, and roast beef and—wait! Where would we live?"

The last part was directed at Hans, but Elsa interrupted, "Here?"

"Absolutely!" Hans exclaimed. Thank goodness she was okay with that! There was no way Hans was letting Anna get anywhere near Hector.

Elsa shook her head. "Anna…"

"—and we can invite all twelve of your brothers—"

"_What?_ No, no, no, no, no—"

"—of course, we have room here—"

"Whoa. Slow down!" Elsa threw up her hands in frustration. "_No one's_ brothers are staying here, and _no one_ is getting married!"

Anna's eager expression quickly twisted into confusion. "Wait, what?"

Elsa's own expression darkened. "Anna, may I talk to you, please? Alone?"

_Oh, no._ They might have to elope after all. And then Elsa would hate him, and she would never believe his story.

Hans nudged Anna toward her sister. Maybe they just needed a long talk to clear the air. Maybe Elsa had a reason for shutting Anna out all those years ago, and she just didn't want to lose her little sister to some random stranger.

But Anna seemed to have a different idea. She firmly looped her arm through his and steeled herself against her sister. "No. Whatever you have to say, you can say it to the both of us."

"Fine," Elsa snapped. "You can't marry a man you just met."

"You _can_ if it's true love!"

"What do you know about true love, Anna?"

"More than you. All _you_ know is how to shut people out!"

Elsa's eyes widened at the jab. Then she schooled her expression back to one of icy calm and held out her hands as if she were not interested in further pressing the issue. When she spoke again, her voice was thin. "You asked for my blessing, but my answer is no. Now if you'll excuse me…" She turned away and headed for the doors.

Hans tried one last time, "Your Majesty, if I may—"

"No. You may not. And I think you should go." She passed one of the servants. "The party is over. Close the gates," she ordered.

By Hans's side, Anna went completely rigid. "Wait, _what?_ No, Elsa, wait!"

She rushed forward to grab Elsa's hand, but the queen pulled away. Hans noticed Anna holding a thin turquoise piece of cloth.

Almost frantically, Elsa made a grab for it. "Give me back my glove!"

"Elsa, _please!_ I can't live like this anymore!" Anna pleaded, probably referring to the years of isolation and loneliness.

Hans was dimly aware that the room had fallen silent as everyone stared at the sisters, waiting for Elsa's reply.

"_Then leave."_

Anna was stunned into silence. Hans longed to rush to her side to comfort her, but he forced himself to hold back. This was Anna's fight.

Elsa was walking away again.

Suddenly, Anna burst out, "What did I ever _do_ to you?"

"_Enough_, Anna." Elsa's voice sounded drained as she tugged the ends of her cape around her shoulders and kept walking.

"No! _Why?_ Why did you shut me out? Why do you shut the _world_ out? _What are you so afraid of?"_

"I said, _enough!"_ Elsa whirled around.

There was a flash of blue. Suddenly, gasps of horror rang throughout the ballroom, and those closest to the door leaped back as a ring of ice exploded from the floor, icicles growing outward like cruel, gleaming fangs.

"Sorcery!" someone muttered.

So _this_ was the secret of the Arendellean royal family! The queen was an enchantress with the power to create ice at will! Hans tensed, ready to leap in front of Anna to protect her, should Elsa unleash her wrath upon everyone in the ballroom.

But the queen looked anything but wrathful, pressed against the door not unlike a cornered animal. Her blue eyes once again brimmed over with the fear and panic Hans had noticed during the coronation ceremony. Her gloved hand found the doorknob, and she threw the door open, escaping into the hall.

"Come on! We have to go after her!"

The shout came from the Duke of Weselton as he and his thugs skirted around the ring of ice and gave chase.

Hans's blood ran cold as he realized what the Duke was planning. With Elsa's secret exposed and her political career most likely doomed and her only kin engaged to Hans…the Plot was coming to fruition. All Hector needed now was for someone to kill Elsa, and Weselton's thugs were more than capable of that.

Anna, too, was rushing out the door. Hans followed her without hesitation.

"Where could she be heading?"

"Probably outside," Anna puffed. "The doors are this way! Follow me!"

Up ahead, the hallway was briefly lit by another flash of blue. They could hear the townspeople crying out in fear. The Duke and his men disappeared around the corner.

"There she is! Stop her!"

"Please! Just stay away from me!"

Another flash, followed by the sound of ice shattering.

The Duke let out a shriek.

Hans and Anna rounded the corner and found him sprawled on the steps leading to the castle courtyard. The steps were frozen over. The crowd was in full panic mode, complete with wailing babies and screams of terror.

"Monster! Monster!"

Anna stiffened at the sight of something across the courtyard. "Elsa!" she shouted, gingerly leaping over the Duke and the patch of ice on the steps. She disappeared into the crowd.

"Anna, wait!" Hans cried, scrambling after her. "It's too dangerous!"

Anna either did not hear him, or she ignored him, chasing after her sister.

Eventually, they made their way to the gates.

"Elsa! Wait, please!"

The tiny figure on the frozen shoreline below only glanced back once. Then she stepped onto the fjord. Hans held his breath. _Was she trying to drown herself?_

But, no. The water instantly froze wherever Elsa stepped. Before long, she had broken into a sprint, headed for the opposite shore, leaving a series of ever expanding ice crystals in her wake.

Anna had made her way down the rocks to the shore. "Elsa, stop!" She tried to step onto the ice but slipped and fell.

"Anna!" Hans shouted, scrambling after her to help her up.

"No," she whispered, still clutching the glove.

They watched as Elsa reached the far shore and disappeared into the trees.

* * *

**A/N:** So the dialogue is a little more accurate in this chapter because I finally found the _Frozen_ screenplay that Disney uploaded to their site. Unfortunately, that's about the only good thing I can say about this chapter. The ending seriously sucked. It'll get little better next chapter because we won't be confined to what happens on screen in the movie, since the next few scenes in the movie are in Anna's point of view, and I'll have a lot more freedom with Hans.

Also, apologies if there are any typos. I was finishing this at six in the morning, and I just wanted to get it done and uploaded.


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